The Worst That Could Happen
by criminally charmed
Summary: One shot, movie verse. John and Alan are trying to spend some time together on the Anniversary of the Hood's attack. But will the tragedy they avoided once find them this time?


**The Worst That Could Happen**

**by Criminally Charmed**

**_Disclaimer - I have not now, nor have I ever, owned the Thunderbirds. I didn't get them for Valentine's Day. Hubby did, however, shock me with some lovely roses delivered to my workplace._**

**_This story is for Little Miss Bump, who has been having a really stressful month. So since I can't run some chocolate to you - not that you could eat any of it - I decided to give you another treat. Enjoy!_**

* * *

A year. It had been a year. One year ago, the Hood had come into their lives. Trahan Belegant, aka "The Hood", had been a criminal, a smuggler, who ran an illegal diamond mine in his native Malaysia. The safety and well-being of his enslaved workers had never been a concern to Belegant. So when mild earthquake did limited damage to most of the area, it was devastating to the mine. It had collapsed, trapping almost two hundred souls beneath the ground. The local government, while corrupt enough to turn a blind eye to the activities of the mine, had enough decency to contact the appropriate authorities to begin a rescue. These authorities quickly realized that they were ill-equipped to perform the task at hand. It was then that the call was made to International Rescue – the Thunderbirds.

John Tracy had been in the same place, in the same position on that day as he was today. Up on Thunderbird Five, the organization's space station, John had received the call and dispatched his family to the scene. Led by their father, ex-astronaut and billionaire, Jeff Tracy and two of the other Tracy sons, Scott and Virgil, the Tracys hurried to the scene. Using their superior equipment, they had quickly managed to gain access to the mine. In the course of the rescue, they had learned that the mine's owner had taken a different access shaft out, cutting off the workers and leaving them to their fate. But an aftershock caused that shaft to collapse as well, trapping Belegant as well.

At the time, it had been impossible to reach the trapped owner and the Tracys had to focus on the people in front of them. Once they had successfully extracted all the workers, Jeff began to try and get a reading on the mine owner. But they could find no trace of life. And since the workers were alive, the government felt no need to pull the body of a man who would be saved only to be sent to prison for the remainder of his days, if not outright executed for the remains of slaves that had been found in the wake of the disaster.

John knew how badly that rescue had disturbed their father. All of the sons did. Not so much Gordon and Alan, but definitely the three older boys. The two "Tracy Babies" had been back on the tropical island that served as both their home and the base for International Rescue. Gordon had been badly injured months earlier in a military training accident and Jeff had chosen to home school Alan during that time. But Gordon had soon recovered and Alan was sent off to another boarding school.

In the time between the rescue and the reintroduction of the Hood into their lives, Gordon had been allowed to join the Thunderbirds and Alan had become more and more restless. The kid had wanted nothing more than to join International Rescue and stay on the island with his family. Stubborn as hell – and their father – Alan had repeatedly acted out, leading to legendary battles between the youngest and oldest Tracy. John sighed as he remembered how the earthbound Tracy sons hadn't made it any easier on the kid. The constant teasing had pushed Alan away from his brothers, isolating the then fourteen year old boy to a point that was almost of no return.

Alan hadn't been home for Spring Break long when the Hood had attacked. First the man had sent a missile into Thunderbird Five. Looking around, John reasonably knew that all the damage from the rocket had been repaired. Every circuit or surface that had been even scratched had been fixed and the entire station gleamed like a newly minted dime. But in his mind's eye, the damage was irreparable. John would always see the damage that monster had done. Not only had he attacked John up here in the place the astronaut had always felt safe, he had lured most of the Tracys, save Alan, up here for a rescue of one of their own. Instead, the Hood, who had invaded Tracy Island by then, trapped the Thunderbirds up here where they would have died a slow death.

But the bastard hadn't counted on Alan. The kid, along with his friends Fermat and Tin-Tin, had led the villains on a dizzying chase. Eventually caught, they had once more escaped from a freezer that they had been locked in with a few other people. Too late to stop the Hood and his minions from escaping in Thunderbird Two – which they had planned to use to rob banks around the world, blaming everything on the Thunderbirds – the people back on the ground had succeeded in restoring power to Thunderbird Five, saving their lives.

Because of the damage both Five and Thunderbird Three – their space going vehicle – had suffered in the attack, there was no way that IR could stop the Hood as he began his reign of terror in London. But Alan could. And he did. Taking Thunderbird One to London with his friends and IR operative Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, had saved some people that the Hood had endangered. Thinking of the time spent in Three, racing to join their youngest member in London, still brought a small smile to his face. John never knew which baby Scott had been more worried about – Thunderbird One or Alan.

In the year that had passed since that terrifying day, wounds – both physical and emotional – had healed for the family. John had been back up on his "baby" since September (with a rotation out with one of his brothers every fourth week). The Hackenbackers had come up for Christmas Break, allowing the Tracys to spend the holiday together and Alan had been up for training during February Break. The two blonde Tracy sons had so enjoyed their week together on the satellite that John had asked their father if he couldn't spend some added time with his youngest brother during Spring Break.

For now, John was awaiting the arrival of the Hackenbackers once more. Brains, IR's (and Tracy Enterprises) chief engineer and his son, Fermat, Alan's best friend and roommate at school, were arriving any minute. In different classes for the most part, Fermat had been picked up by his father a day earlier and the two were anxiously awaiting more time up here. "Heaven in a tin can for the geeks" was Gordon's cheerful way of describing it for the two inquisitive minds. But once they had arrived, John would be free to return to Earth – and Alan.

Alan was currently at school in Massachusetts, but Lady Penelope had once more graciously offered to pick him up. She was bringing him as far as Los Angeles, where John would meet them. Jeff had agreed to give John a few days off, which he would spend with his youngest brother. Alan had developed a keen interest in astronomy and there was a meteor shower due in the next few days, with the best spot for viewing in California's Mojave Desert. John had made arrangements to camp in a small trailer in the desert for a couple of days. A smile softening his face, John brushed away the strands of anxiety that the anniversary of the day had left behind. Pushing back any dark thoughts, John responded to Brains' voice echoing through the station. "Th-Thunderbird Th-Three to Th-Thunderbird five. Ready to d-dock."

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three, ready and eager to be relieved." John stood up and stretched. While he loved being up in space, he was eager to return to Earth. College, NASA and finally being up on Five had limited John's contact with Alan in recent years. But it had taken most of the summer to repair the space station to a point that John could return to his usual rotations. During that time, Alan and John had really gotten to know each other again. And other times – Christmas on Tracy Island and February Vacation on Five – had only strengthened the bond that had faded as the little boy John had once sneaked out of the nursery to show the stars grew into a young man.

Well, the kid was still only fifteen. _Almost sixteen_, Alan would be quick to challenge. The kid's birthday was in just over a month. John knew his father planned on a business conference that Jeff had made sure was being held in Boston for the same week, allowing Jeff to spend extra time with his youngest. John knew how anxious his father was to continue proving to his "baby" that the kid was important to him. Due to his position as his father's unofficial sounding board, John was aware how haunted Jeff still was by what had happened during Alan's last Spring Break. The Hood had nearly killed Alan several times, twice right in front of their father's horrified eyes. Holding his son after everything was over; Jeff had sworn to make sure Alan knew how much he loved him and how important he was to the father. It was a lesson they had all learned and something all the members of the family was determined to benefit from.

As the Hackenbackers boarded the space station, John met them at the hatchway, eager to be on his way but his father's lessons of proper protocol too deeply drilled in him to do anything but act as a total professional. Brains knew how anxious and excited John was for some alone time with his youngest brother. Wasn't that one of the reasons Brains had been volunteering to cover some of the school breaks on Five, as it allowed him quality time with his son, Fermat? The professor resisted the urge to interrupt, letting John run over all the details and need-to-knows before encouraging the astronomer to board Thunderbird Three for the return trip to Earth. Smiling, Professor Hackenbacker watched as the big red rocket detached and roared back to base. This would be an experience that both the Tracy sons would never forget.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set over the city of angels as John Tracy stood at the small airstrip outside the sprawling metropolis. John had refused to meet his brother at the larger LAX for several reasons. One was the chance of being recognized. While Alan had remained a virtual unknown – something Jeff Tracy had worked very hard at to allow his youngest the chance to as normal a childhood as one of his sons could have – John was recognizable from his books on astronomy. Maybe not as easily identified as Gordon from his Olympic victory or Jeff for…well, _everything, _but the paparazzi who stalked the halls of Los Angeles International Airport made it their business to know everyone who was anyone. And a picture of a Tracy son – especially the baby that Jeff went to such pains to keep out of the spotlight – would make the news hounds salivate like Pavlov's dogs.

The other reason for the choice of airports came in for a landing. Parker, Lady P's chauffer, brought FAB-1, her flying car, in for a landing. As the only employee on duty was an old friend of the oldest Tracy son, Scott and a former Tracy Enterprises employee, it was safe for him to see the car landing. Bill Madison was aware of the car designed by Jeff Tracy but as he still did freelance work for his former employer, Bill firmly considered himself still under his confidentiality agreement.

Walking across the still warm hardtop, John broke into a jog as Alan emerged from the back of the car. Grinning, he soon found his arms filled with an excited teenager. "Hey Sprout," he teased, ruffling his brother's hair. While both of them were blonde, John's hair was naturally platinum while Alan's was more of the golden blonde their mother had been. Both also had her bright blue eyes and warm smile. And now Alan was almost as tall as his second oldest brother, his form promising to be the same lean, athletic build as John's. It was no surprise to any of the Tracys that Alan had chosen to join the track team at his boarding school, much as John had when they had lived back in Kansas. Between the Fall and Spring Track teams, each of the Tracys had made sure they all made it to a meet. The kid was good and he could really run. Jeff credited Alan for having to learn to outrun outraged older brothers.

Gordon really was a bad influence on his baby brother.

* * *

Driving eastwards to where a camper awaited the Tracys, John smiled as Alan chattered on about everything that had been going on at his school while allowing his older brother to only make the occasional acknowledgement of his words. "So…" John finally broke in. "How were your midterms?"

Alan grinned. "Dean's List again, big brother. And my application for entering the Advanced Placement Program in the fall has been approved."

John smiled, taking his hand off the wheel long enough to ruffle Alan's hair. "That's great, Al! I can't believe Dad isn't calling everyone in his rolodex."

Twisting his face in a grimace, Alan asked, "Dad actually still has a rolodex? Geez, everyone else has a Blackberry."

Chuckling, John shook his head. "Dad has both, OK? But I can't believe he didn't tell me. And everyone else he knows."

"Dad doesn't know." At Alan's quiet comment, John cast a quick glance at his brother, his silence encouraging Alan to continue. "You miss so much of our family time, Johnny. I just wanted you to hear some news first."

Touched beyond words, John had to swallow twice before he spoke. Turning on the windshield wipers as the rain that had been threatening for the last thirty minutes began to fall first as a gentle patter before quickly evolving into a downpour. "Alan, I…well, thanks. It means a lot to me. But you've been helping with that a lot since I went back to Five. I love when you call me at work."

"I love it too," Alan responded. Chuckling, he gave a small punch to John's arm as he continued. "My math grades have gotten so much better since you and I started reviewing them. I could have never gotten in the AP program without that A in Trig."

John laughed. "An A in Trig? Man, Scott is gonna flip. He couldn't even manage that. Best he ever got was a B-plus."

"But you got an A. And you ran track."

Confused, John tried to figure out where Alan was going with that as he increased the speed of the wipers to their max setting. "And you don't want to be me when you grow up?"

Alan smiled. "John, I love you, you know that, right? I've already been talking to Harvard, your Alma Mater, I run track, just like you, I am heading for the college fast track, just like you do, I look like you…A better looking version, but still…" Alan chuckled as John bit back the impulse to take a swipe at him because of the road conditions. "But I want something that is just mine. In our mechanical engineering class, we have been designing something that requires a combustible fuel driven engine. My team has designed a motocross bike. I was the leader of the team and the teacher was really impressed with my work. But he was even more impressed when we took it for a test drive. See, Mr. Barlow – that's my teacher's name – has gotten approval to start a new extra-curricular activity for next year. There is gonna be a motocross team next spring at Wharton's. I would still be on the track team in the fall but I want to be on the team for Mr. Barlow. I could help design and maintain the bikes, great engineering experience. I would also have greater diversity on my college applications…"

"You mean student government; honor's level grades, track team and literacy volunteer aren't impressive enough?" John questioned.

"Hey, I'm up against some stiff competition. Amazing is good, Great is OK and Good sucks. Since I lack Fermat's laser like focus I have to settle for diversity. Do you know he is already had talks with MIT and Cal-Sci?" John nodded, Brains' pride had known no bounds that his thirteen year old son was already being sought out by some of the finest schools in the country. "Besides…" Alan continued, his voice so soft John could barely hear it over the rain pounding on the roof of the rental car, "I would love to do something that was just mine. It seems like everything I do, someone in the family has already done and excelled at. I can play the piano but I will never be as good as Virgil. I've had my pilot license since I was thirteen but I will never be as good as Scott. No matter how good my grades are I will never be the genius you are acknowledged as. I can run all the track meets I want but what is good enough for a high school competition isn't good enough to win an Olympic medal like Gordy. And how do you top Dad? I just want something that is mine and there is no other Tracy to compare me to. I love you guys, and don't ever tell the guys this for as long as I live, but you guys are my heroes. I want so much to be like my family. But I also need to be just me…just Alan."

John was speechless. He didn't know what to say. Thoughts raced through his minds, desperate to find something to say to Alan. John took a deep breath, knowing he had to say something and hoping it was the right thing.

Just as John softly said, "Alan…" his kid brother cut him off, screaming, "John, look out!"

A blinding bright light from the right followed by a jagged crunch and then by a pounding sound from behind them and John knew no more.

* * *

Several times, John felt himself rising to the surface, deep from the pit of darkness he was trapped in. Every time John neared the top, the memory of Alan's scream of terror would squeeze his heart. "Alan? Where is Alan? Where's my little brother?" When no one would answer his question, John felt his hysteria rise followed swiftly by the prick of a needle in his arm, drawing him back into the pit.

Awareness once more coming upon him, John heard familiar voices speaking in muted tones.

"Yeah, well I wish Dad would get in here. The doctor might be saying John is fine, but he can't bullshit Dad."

"John is gonna be fine Gordo. I can read this chart as well as his doctor. His vitals are good and the damage was minimal. He won't be headed back to work for at least three or four weeks, but he has a simple concussion, some stitches from flying glass and a whole lot of bruising."

"OK, Virg the Surg. Whatever the doctor says. I just wish Dad and the Deputy Dictator would get here and tell us where Alan is. I don't like how the staff divided us up. Why couldn't just one doctor tell us how both of our brothers are?"

"That was already explained, Fish Face. John had only minor injuries, comparatively. So he was treated by a hospitalist and sent up for observation. Alan…" John heard the catch in his artist brother's voice as Virgil tried to compose himself. "Al needed surgery. He was rushed to the OR. That freakin' drunk plowed right into their car on the passenger side. It took them almost an hour to get Alan out of the car. If the car behind them – who didn't help matters by running into them from the rear because he was going too fast for the road conditions – hadn't called the Highway Patrol, both of our brothers could still be out there. God knows that drunken idiot wouldn't have. Man, did you hear what the cop said? Three times the legal limit. Three times!!! Cop didn't know how the guy could sit upright, forget drive."

"Well he did," Gordon said bitterly. "Right into our brothers. Johnny and Al just wanted a little time off together. Alan is the only one of us, except maybe dad, that John can really talk about the stars with."

The smile could be heard in Virgil's voice as he said, "Well, no one is better at planning a prank with for you than Allie. And he is the only one of you really interested in field medicine. It's been great teaching him."

Both brothers fell silent as they mused on how much the youngest Tracy meant to his entire family. At that point, John made himself known.

"How bad is he?" As John managed to open his eyes, almost smiling at the way his brothers whipped their heads around at the sound of his voice. Man, he wished he could get their attention this easily under normal circumstances.

Virgil sat on the side of the bed, careful of the wires and IV leading to his next oldest brother. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Dad and Scott went to check."

Gordon's "har-rumph" drew his brothers' gaze before silence fell over the room. Until they knew Alan was alright, there really was nothing else to say.

The silence stretched out as the three middle Tracy sons remained virtually unmoving until a noise outside the door drew all of their attention. With eyes wide, they watched as the door opened, Scott coming through, an arm around Jeff. It was Jeff Tracy who was the focus of his sons' concerned gaze. The man seemed to have aged a decade since they had last seen him.

Jeff stumbled into a chair, one that his worried sons were afraid he wouldn't have made it into if Scott hadn't still been holding onto his arm.

"Dad?" Gordon whispered, terrified at the sight of their always in control parent so shattered.

"Alan…Alan, um, he, didn't make it. The injuries were too severe." Jeff's shaky voice was barely audible.

"No!" Virgil burst out. "Dad, they made a mistake. They mixed him up with another patient. You hear about stuff like this. We have to go and…"

"Virg." Scott's voice was soft but firm. "We identified him. It was Alan. He never even made it through the surgery. They didn't even really get a chance to start when he crashed. They tried to bring him back, but his injuries were too severe. He's gone…my little boy…" Scott, their always strong, always in control big brother seemed to crumple like a wet piece of paper. Virgil barely caught him before he hit the floor. "Allie, oh, God no, not Allie…"

"It's all my fault." John's words drew their attention from the Scott. Even the devastated oldest son looked at the only surviving blonde son. "I brought him out there. I was driving. It's…"

"The only one at fault," Jeff said as firmly as he could manage after having just identified the still – a word he had never associated with Alan – body of his youngest son, "is the monster who thought it was a good idea to get drunk out of his gourd and then get behind a wheel of a car. It's his fault. It is his and only his fault that…" Jeff crumpled back into the chair. "My baby boy. He…I had the best surprise for his birthday. I found an old T-Bird. 1959 convertible. Would need tons of work. But if we worked on it whenever he came home, it would be ready by the time he went to college. He…My baby…"

Jeff's surviving sons, even John, tearing out his IV, made it over to their devastated father. Getting down on their knees, they all leaned into him and wept, the loss of the baby of the family shattering them all. As John leaned into his father, he whispered, "I have to stop this. I have to…"

* * *

"Th-Thunderbird Th-Three to Th-Thunderbird five. Ready to d-dock."

John blinked. He was on Thunderbird Five.

"Th-Thunderbird Th-Three to Th-Thunderbird five, c-can you read us J-John?"

Raising his shaking hand to his face, John sucked in a breath at the tears still trailing down his cheeks. Realizing Brains was awaiting an answer, he responded. "Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Three. I read you, Brains. Hope you guys have a big to-do list, cause it's pretty boring up here. Guy could drift off to sleep…"

In the rocket, the Hackenbackers looked at each other in puzzlement. John loved being on Five among the stars. Well, maybe the astronomer was just anxious to get to his vacation with Alan.

* * *

Just like in his dream, John was driving east, further into the Mojave Desert, his baby brother by his side as they made their way to the camp site. A group of astronomers that John had known in NASA had set up a camp and even secured a small travel trailer for Alan and John. Jeff had been reluctant for Alan to sleep outside in a tent after having a bad cold a month ago. His youngest had rolled his eyes, but Jeff remained firm. The desert nights could become rather cold but in April it was still too chilly for the youngster to be sleeping outside. John had called in a favor and the trailer had been a good compromise. They would still do almost everything else outside but at least they would be sheltered at night. That was enough to satisfy Jeff.

John's smile was tight as Alan chattered on about everything that had been going on at his school while allowing his older brother to only make the occasional acknowledgement of his words. "So…" John finally broke in. "Um, how were your midterms?"

Alan grinned. "Dean's List again, big brother. And my application for entering the Advanced Placement Program in the fall has been approved."

John still smiled, taking his hand off the wheel long enough to ruffle Alan's hair. "That's great, Al! I can't believe Dad isn't calling everyone in his rolodex."

Twisting his face in a grimace, Alan asked, "Dad actually still has a rolodex? Geez, everyone else has a Blackberry."

Feeling shaky, John shook his head. "Dad has both, OK? But I can't believe he didn't tell me. And everyone else he knows."

"Dad doesn't know." At Alan's quiet comment, John cast a quick glance at his brother, his silence encouraging Alan to continue, even while the sense of déjà vu made him sick. "You miss so much of our family time, Johnny. I just wanted you to hear some news first."

Touched deeply, John had to swallow twice before he spoke. Partially because of Alan's thoughtfulness and part to the bile churning in his stomach. Turning on the windshield wipers as the rain that had been threatening for the last thirty minutes began to fall first as a gentle patter before quickly evolving into a downpour. "Alan, I…well, thanks. It means a lot to me. But you've been helping with that a lot since I went back to Five. I love when you call me at work."

"I love it too," Alan responded. Chuckling, he gave a small punch to John's arm as he continued. "My math grades have gotten so much better since you and I started reviewing them. I could have never gotten in the AP program without that A in Trig."

John forced a laugh. "An A in Trig? Man, Scott is gonna flip. He couldn't even manage that. Best he ever got was a B-plus."

"But you got an A. And you ran track."

Confused, John tried to figure out where Alan was going with that as he increased the speed of the wipers to their max setting, even as he prayed for something to change. But he found himself repeating their dream conversation. "And you don't want to be me when you grow up?"

Alan smiled. "John, I love you, you know that, right? I've already been talking to Harvard, your Alma Mater, I run track, just like you, I am heading for the college fast track, just like you did, I look like you…A better looking version, but still…" Alan chuckled as John bit back the impulse to take a swipe at him because of the road conditions. "But I want something that is just mine. In our mechanical engineering class, we have been designing something that requires a combustible fuel driven engine. My team has designed a motocross bike. I was the leader of the team and the teacher was really impressed with my work. But he was even more impressed when we took it for a test drive. See, Mr. Barlow – that's my teacher's name – has gotten approval to start a new extra-curricular activity for next year. There is gonna be a motocross team next spring. I would still be on the track team in the fall but I want to be on the team for Mr. Barlow. I could help design and maintain the bikes, great engineering experience. I would also have greater diversity on my college applications…"

"You mean student government; honor's level grades, track team and literacy volunteer aren't impressive enough?" John questioned. His breathing was becoming more stilted as everything was happening once more.

"Hey, I'm up against some stiff competition. Amazing is good, Great is OK and Good sucks. Since I lack Fermat's laser like focus I have to settle for diversity. Do you know he is already had talks with MIT and Cal-Sci?" John nodded, Brains' pride had known no bounds that his thirteen year old son was already being sought out by some of the finest schools in the country. "Besides…" Alan continued, his voice so soft John could barely hear it over the rain pounding on the roof of the rental car, "I would love to do something that was just mine. It seems like everything I do, someone in the family has already done and excelled at. I can play the piano but I will never be as good as Virgil. I've had my pilot license since I was thirteen but I will never be as good as Scott. No matter how good my grades are I will never be the genius you are acknowledged as. I can run all the track meets I want but what is good enough for a high school competition isn't good enough to win an Olympic medal like Gordy. And how do you top Dad? I just want something that is mine and there is no other Tracy to compare me to. I love you guys, and don't ever tell the guys this for as long as I live, but you guys are my heroes. I want so much to be like my family. But I also need to be just me…just Alan."

OK, that was it. John suddenly whipped the car around just prior to an intersection. The rental car skidded on the rain-slicked highway. From behind them, a horn blew as a car without it's headlights on flew past them. There was no stop sign that direction but they still shouldn't have been driving so fast in the rain…

"John?" Alan's shaky voice could be heard. "What the hell is your major malfunction…?"

Alan's words were cut off by the sickening sound of metal on metal. Looking at the intersection, both brothers were appalled at the sight of the two cars almost merged together. "Al!" John yelled as he got out of the car. "Get on the phone and call 911. Have them get the CHP and an ambulance out here. I'll grab the first aid kit from the trunk and do an eval. Then come join me."

Alan quickly obeyed his brother's orders, and soon found himself hanging up in order to join John. Since John was evaluating the driver of the car that got hit, Alan moved over to the second car. "Hey John, how is he?"

"Broken wrist, Al," John called back. "And a bit shook up. He has some bad cuts that are going to need stitches but all and all, he should be OK." Looking up through the rain, he shrugged. "How about yours?"

"Besides the fact he smells like a distillery? I guess God looks out for fools, children and idiots who drink and drive. Not a scratch on him." Stepping back from the driver who had somehow managed to fall asleep, Alan looked over the other vehicle. "Damn, it's a good thing no one was in that passenger seat. They would have been a goner for sure."

If Alan could tell any of the moisture on John's face was tears rather than rain, he didn't say anything. But when Alan moved away to help the arriving emergency vehicles, John looked up. Usually, he would raise his head to the heavens in order to better watch the stars he loved so much. But this time he did it to say thank you. And as the thunder rolled briefly even as the sudden storm faded across the desert, John Glenn Tracy could have sworn he heard something as well.

He could have sworn he heard, _"You're welcome."_

* * *

**_A/N - OK, first off, this all started some time ago when Megz McGizzle and I were tossing story ideas around. She wanted to do something like this but...well, she admitted she probably wouldn't. And if she had...well, let's just say the dream part was all my idea. I just can't kill off a Tracy. She had no problem with it and if she ever returns to writing TB fics, I am still encouraging her to do one along this lines. You are not as wimpy as me in striking a fatal blow. Me? I don't want anyone dying until they are old and grey. Hell, I knew what I was gonna do and I still cried when Alan "died". But the faith John showed and thanking God - with Him answering - was all for you LMB. I find your faith and trust in Him to be beautiful. So this is for you._**

**_And if you are grumbling because this is not the sequel to "Payment in Kind", I have started it, I just wanted to have more written before I start to post. Probably a week or so. Please take this humble offering of roasted plot bunny and enjoy! Happy Valentine's Day. (Reviews are better than candy...) CC_**


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